Bombs
by sock monkeys
Summary: "Life in the Underground is simple for me, or at least it was. It stopped being simple the day that annoying bugger and his fancy pet escaped from jail. I've done it plenty of times, but since he's some sort of time-traveler he gets all the glory."


**So...first submission in a while...whoops? This is something I'll probably be doing in spare time - a way of cooling off or just enjoying downtime - so it might not be updated like a super crazy thing, but I'll still be doing it and stuff. This'll also probably be the first serious story I've written in a while...or ever. Well, those are lies and stuff because I _have_ written serious stuff, just never on here.**

**ANYway, this is a story that follows the "life and times" of Torn's twin sister - and one of my OC's - Camilla. Enjoy.**

**Discalimer: I totally don't own Jak and Daxter. Naughty Dog...does? Well, I'm not sure anymore ever since TLF came out, but regardless or who owns it, it isn't me!**

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I don't have a standard life, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Out there, people with the "normal" lives don't have to worry about taking part in a war, only the effects of it. I once told a woman that she shouldn't be so worried about what her kids wanted to eat for supper, and that they should be thankful they actually had food. She got all defensive and snapped at me, saying something like "If you had children you would understand why I have to do this." and all I could do was just look at her and reply, "If it weren't for people like me, you wouldn't be alive long enough to have children."

I have heard it be said that "the woods are lovely, dark and deep"…I think whoever came up with that saying was a bunch of liars. I myself have never seen five trees close enough to provide shelter for a small child in this wretched world, let alone enough to count as "woods". In this industrialized city – this metal world – plants rarely grow, and birds hardly ever take flight.

I have seen things that no person my age should have ever seen. And yet every day I still see more. I do it not out of loyalty, but out of disrespect for the evil ruler that sits atop of us, glaring down on our lives from that stupid palace and wishing we would all just die. Every time I kick a Krimzon Guard in the face, or shoot down his "latest technology", I always pretend it's him I'm aiming for. Somehow, I think it improved my aim.

In a world where you can earn your way with a clear head and a happy trigger finger, I'd like to think I fit in here pretty well.

_~Taken from Camilla's Journal_

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If there was going to be an explosion, the Slums was a bad place to be hanging out. Gas leaks, raw materials and lots of scrap metal were just the beginning of the kind of havoc one could cause with explosive material. Then there was the non-explosive threat of the thugs sneaking around, playing a game of dress-up as they roamed the streets hidden from all eyes dressed as civilians. If you ever got close enough to ask them the time, their true nature would be instantly revealed to you. So if you still asked them what time it was and they stabbed you, there was one girl who most definitely wouldn't care. She would say "well that was your own damn fault" and walk away. She was the fifteen year-old kid roaming the streets wearing a pair of too-short overalls and ankle-high combat boots covered in scraps of bright fabric. She walked with a swagger familiar only to her and bobbed her head, the headband doing its job and holding the erratic black curls out of her face.

To a civilian she may have seemed odd, eccentric even, but unlike them she knew her place in the world, and in her eyes that made _them_ odd. The Krimzon Guards didn't pay any attention to her because she wasn't causing any trouble. They practically did nothing but sleepwalk in those damn suits anyway until somebody did something bad. Then suddenly they went all crazy and did anything and everything to catch a criminal if they ran away. The teen was bored and decided it just might be fun if she got to play a little game of Cat and Mouse, with members of the Krimzon Guard acting as the Cat.

Very subtly she changed the direction of her swagger, headed straight for the closest KG officer. Reaching a hand behind her head it seemed like she was fixing her hair, but as she drew closer to the officer the hand whipped out and struck him in the stomach, his muffled grunt satisfying a grotesque and twisted desire inside of her. She smiled at him and began to back away until she had walked into something with a slight _thump_. Turning around, she shrank back as the Krimzon Guard now in front of her grabbed her by the arm and attempted to haul her away. Her fist whistled by his face and he hit her instead, throwing her into his hellcat cruiser.

That was the very first time she had escaped from the prison.

She arrived home extremely proud of herself and covered in muck, cuts, bruises, and a big black eye. She didn't have to worry about how her parents would react; her mother and father were out of the house doing important work for the Baron that she _obviously _couldn't understand since she still hadn't done anything big and amazing with her life yet. It wasn't her fault really; she just hadn't yet found her calling. In time it would show itself, but time was being a pain and taking much too long for her parents' liking. Thankfully she didn't have to come up with an excuse for them, she could easily tell her brother the truth knowing he wouldn't rat her out. He was in the kitchen cutting something up for supper. Flopping down on a chair she began to take her boots off as she acknowledged her brother. "Hey Torn."

When he turned around she was again hit with the inability to understand just how they could possibly be related, let alone be twin brother and sister. They had the same facial structure but you could only tell when she had her hair pulled all the way back, or when he let his get in his face. He was much taller than she was, she was quickly catching up thanks to an insane growth spurt she was going through, but his presence and intelligence made him seem much bigger and older than the gangly age of fifteen. There was just something in his eyes that told you he spent his days training to be a respected member of the Krimzon Guard, while her eyes told you she spent her days punching people and playing in the mud.

A young Torn smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Hey Camilla, what brings you home so late? I was about to have supper without you."

Being proud was never a sin in their household, as long as the pride came from a worthy accomplishment. Camilla sat up proudly and said with a grin, "I escaped from jail today."

"Oh did you now?" Torn asked with mild interest, thinking it was just another of his sister's stories as he turned back to his cutting, "Who were you playing with?"

Camilla rolled her eyes at her brother. "I don't _know_ his name because I for real punched a KG in the gut, got taken to jail, and got out! I smacked the bastard _hard_!" She was beaming. The older of the two – being the stubborn boy who just _had_ to be first out – would occasionally take his sister and teach her how to defend herself and that was where she learned her "wicked right hook". Obviously he hoped the day would never come where she needed to know how to throw a good punch, but one could never be too prepared in a city such as Haven. After a few minutes of no response, Camilla pressed, "If you don't believe me, check the records tomorrow at 'work'. You'll see I'm no liar. I took that new exit you told me about, you know, the one through the sewers? That's why I'm all dirty, see?"

Whatever Torn was holding – how in the hell did he forget what he was just holding? – fell from his hands and dropped with a clatter into the sink. The color drained from his face, he knew it did, and his hands began to shake. What was wrong with him? An uneasy, "Torn?" came from behind him. He turned around infuriated.

"You _actually_ escaped from the prison? Are you nuts? Mom's gonna murder you when she finds out!" Color began to return to his face, but all in various shades of red.

"What, she'll be mad that I got out alive and well?" Her sarcastic tone showed that Torn had intimidated her, he could see it in those big eyes. Only during times like these could he clearly see the resemblance between the two of them, the unusual stubbornness that rendered them practically incapable of backing down from a fight.

"She'll be mad that you broke the rules to get in, and that you then broke the rules and got _out_ again! And without my help you never would have done either in the first place, which means I'm also to blame!"

His words practically slapped her in the face. Not once had his involvement ever crossed her mind or come into consideration. She didn't care much about hurting herself – she understood the limits of her body and how well she healed – but hurting other people was like slowly sawing off parts of your body with a rusty kitchen utensil. Tears formed in her big eyes but never spilled. She mumbled a quick apology and sprinted off to her tiny room.

That also wasn't the last time she escaped from the prison.

At the age of sixteen, the day after she escaped the fourth time from the walls of the prison cells, the Baron issued an attack on their house to teach her how to behave. Her parents worked for him and were expendable enough to easily be rid of them, but to also frighten everyone else in the city into total submission. The Slums were a good place to be if you wanted to trigger an explosion. Torn and Camilla's parents had no chance of surviving. Torn held his sister while she cried and cried, never seeming to stop…

The demonstration didn't stop her from being a delinquent.

If it did anything at all, it made her hate the Baron with a vengeful passion.

Torn was moving up higher in the ranks of the KG, and was finally promoted to Commander at the young age of seventeen. He was the youngest one in the history of the City to receive the gray Krimzon Guard tattoos on his face. Camilla was proud of him and his accomplishments, but she wasn't pleased with his occupation. Day by day, the Baron's actions grew more violent, and in time he was completely consumed by his inner demons. Torn watched it with a growing unease and always found a way out of the missions involving the murder or "suicide" of an innocent. But some day he would be forced to do it, and Camilla feared that the day he killed a person who hadn't done anything bad in their life would be the day that he died completely inside.

She wanted to do something to stop the Baron before he did something _really_ bad, but she was just a lone kid and it was impossible to stop the Baron on her own. Hands in her pockets, a now seventeen year-old Camilla shuffled through an older section of the City where people were less likely to bother her while she thought. Everything may have been previously corrupted by the Baron, but her thoughts could never be harmed. They stayed locked up safely inside her head where nobody but her could reach them. The year following her orphaning had hardened her significantly into a new person where a smile or a laugh was difficult to come by. Muscles slapped themselves over her skinny bones and she was now becoming a kid who could really beat somebody up if she wanted. Torn – already worried about what he had done to her life by instructing his sister in how to throw a good punch – refused to teach her anything about his guns, but trial and error taught her all she really needed to know about them.

Camilla passed by a device that was shouting messages from the Baron, unknowingly proclaiming his madness to the streets shouting words of "freedom" and "peace" in his "beautiful" and "glorious" Haven City. It angered her to hear his empty promises and lies being accepted by the general public, and her anger gave way to a powerful adrenaline that allowed her to hit the device so hard it broke. Another couple of hits and it was destroyed. The protesting knuckles on her hand throbbed but she paid no attention to them as she heard someone approaching her from behind.

"My my, that sure is a lot of anger you have towards the Baron. Or is it just the machine that bothers you?" A voice chuckled. She turned to face a small green man with a log on his head, skewering his white afro-style hair. A pair of amused eyes looked up at her through oddly shaped glasses and he smiled at her from under his white mustache. "Why did you do that, Camilla?"

Before he had said her name, Camilla planned to glare him down and scare the funny little man away. Anger still lingered from listening to the Baron's message of continuous hatred and having a stranger confront her. The stranger, however, somehow knew her name, and she could be in deep trouble if he knew who she was and the things she had done. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, leaning over the small fat man and using her height to intimidate him. "How do you know my name?"

But the man was not easily frightened. "The plants tell me many things my dear, including your name." He clasped her hand between the two of his. "Do you want to do something about the Baron?"

Disgusted, she yanked her hand from his and wiped it on her dirty pants. "Doesn't everybody?"

The old man chuckled, "Not everybody understands the goings on in this city the way people like you and I do." He winked at her, then continued, "My name is Samos, and I lead an organization called the Underground. We are working to stop the Baron before his foolishness completely destroys our world as we know it." Noticing the slight intrigued look on the girl's face, Samos leaned in closer and watched as she also leaned in. "I'm trying to find good, strong recruits like you, who can help me – help _us_ – put a stop to the Baron. Now," he said, taking her hand in his again, "Shall we go?"

Without a struggle, Camilla let Samos guide her through the city's streets. The Underground sounded like it had legitimate promise, and she now had a place to operate out of. _How ironic_, she thought, _that this man, Samos, gave me this offer right as I was beginning to doubt working as a single unit. Crazy plant guy must know some serious stuff._ Samos led her to a dead-end alley and through a wall that opened up to show a single small door. Camilla looked around in wonder, though her expression suggested she was mildly interested. When her hand was free, she used it to pull her hair back in a spare headband she kept coiled around her wrist.

The room she stood in was of moderate size, bunk beds lining the hall she walked through to reach the dimly-lit area. Not much furniture was used, the main piece was a desk littered with dirty papers and behind it sat a frightening man. His dark hair was cropped short, which seemed to make his beefy face look bigger than it was. Tight clothes made known the monstrous size of muscles – was he honestly flexing or was this before the flexing? His ears were drooping with the weight of all the metal placed in, through and around them as his fists gleamed with the same material. He glared down at Camilla, "Who the hell are you?"

Not threatened by the man, she stood her ground and didn't say anything. Samos went over and made him bend down so he could listen to whatever the little green man had to say. Folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight over to one side, she waited for the men to conclude their conversation. Standing up to full height again, the man looked at her with an unfamiliar gleam in his eye. "So," he began in a gravelly voice, "Ya wanna join the Underground?"

Feigning indifference, she replied, "I don't want to. I'm just gonna."

The muscled man didn't seem to like that very much. "Doubtful. What in the hell can a scrawny lil' _girl_ like you do to assist in winning the war against Praxis?"

"Lots of things. You know, I think it would be a good idea to let me in the Underground. I can do bad _real_ good." A coldness that had never been there before crept into Camilla's voice, her eyes narrowed and scowl deepened.

"I'll bet you hit like a lil' girl too. Ya got no meat on those tiny arms, yer useless to us. Get outta here before I pick you up an' snap you in half." He was taunting her, trying to make her mad. It was working.

Cocking her head slightly, she said to the man, "You think I hit like a girl, do you? Well then how 'bout I punch you, and if it's wussy I'll just leave?"

"Fine by me," he grinned, stepping out from behind the desk. "Gimme your best sho-"

_Wham!_ Her fist smashed into the side of his body, the sickening _crunch_ of bones snapping clearly audible in the tiny room. He clutched his arms to his side and slumped over onto the ground, whimpering and grunting in pain. Stepping over his body, Camilla again crossed her arms and asked, "Am I in?"

"Go…to…hell…" the reply came through gritted teeth.

Samos stepped in, "That usually means 'yes'. Welcome aboard Camilla." He said with a grin as he went to shake her hand.

Clasping hands once again with the funny green man, she replied, "Thank you Samos, but I'd prefer not to be called Camilla here. Instead, you can just call me 'Cam'. Sounds cooler that way."

Smiling, Samos told her, "I will call you by your true name, my dear, because names hold much power. Without that power, who are we as people?"

This guy was totally nuts.

Samos, who was apparently known in the Underground as "The Shadow", began to send Camilla on errands for her newfound family. "Don't tell your brother about us yet," Samos told her, "Wait until he finds us." It wasn't the best thing in the world, having to sneak around and keep a secret from her twin, but if The Shadow ordered it, she would obey. Torn began to notice how his sister would sometimes disappear for days, then return covered in cuts and bruises only to head straight to her room so she could sleep. By the next morning she would be gone again, and the cycle would repeat itself. Whenever he questioned her about it, Camilla would just shrug it off and say something like "I just found this really neat new place to explore" or "I've been trying to run down the Baron's resources" which were both true, only he just didn't realize it yet.

One day after Camilla had packed up and left again, Torn went through the contents of her room to see if there were any clues left as to where she was disappearing to. Underneath the pillow on her bed he found a small pistol, completely cleaned and loaded, and he decided he didn't want to know any more.

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"Commander," boomed the Baron's voice from behind Torn, who had sat down for a late breakfast, "I have a new assignment for you and your men."

Torn sat up straighter in his chair and replied, "What is it my Lord?" Precursors, how he hated saying that.

"We've received report of members of the Underground sneaking around Dead Town, and I want you to exterminate them immediately."

_Exterminate them_. The words sent bugs crawling up his spine. So this was it, this would be the day he was forced to take away innocent lives. Setting down his spoon, Torn asked in a much softer voice, "When shall we leave?"

"Immediately."

Why was he so scared of the Baron all of a sudden? How come his chest tightened at the thought of Praxis just standing behind him? Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat, Torn pushed back his chair and began to leave with a "Right away Baron," when Praxis clapped a giant hand on his shoulder. Frozen in place, Torn was too afraid to even ask what he was doing. "I haven't had your sister in my prison for a while. Keep it that way." Assuming he was dismissed, Torn left the dining hall hurriedly, calling on his communicator for all troops under his command.

It was raining in Dead Town, making the place drearier than already before. Nobody was really sure what this old place used to be, or how it had survived the age of over-industrialization when everything turned to metal and hardened concrete. Dead Town was one of the few favorite places to go for Camilla and Torn alike, it held an eerie silence that constantly drew them to it. Many a day had passed where the two would compete to reach the top of the main tower, but they would never get close to claiming the precious banner previously set up by the Baron there.

Squaring his shoulders, Torn turned around to face twenty or so men who had accompanied him to this forsaken place. "Our mission is to eradicate all Underground members found, no questions asked. Don't leave this place until all of them are dead." His throat tightened at his last words and as the Guards headed out, guns in ready position. Once all the men left did he finally go out on his own, searching for his targets.

The Baron hadn't specified how many they were expected to find, but from the first couple of screams he heard, he knew there were plenty. Shots were fired, more screaming, the sound of feet giving way to chase, he hated it all. How he wanted to just go back to his home – even though it was as empty and desolate as Dead Town usually was, now that Camilla was usually gone – and hide out until the mission was over.

A sound caught his attention and forced him out of his daydreaming. Over to the left and slightly behind him came the movement of someone attempting to sneak away. He whipped around and pulled his pistol out, firing shots as he went. The person gave a small cry and fired back at him a couple of times, one shot grazing his shooting arm painfully. Holstering his gun, Torn instead decided to give chase to the person and engage them in hand-to-hand combat. It almost seemed like they knew what he was planning though, because he watched a shape in dirty blue coveralls secure something around their waist, take a deep breath, and plunge into the murky water head first. Looking around to try and spot the person, Torn pulled out his pistol once again just as shots were fired _from _the water.

Using the position of the shots Torn fired back into the water, hoping to hit whoever he was trying to kill. Just as he was about to take aim – his left arm steadying the throbbing right – a dark head popped out of the water and began to swim for a small dirt pile close to where he was in the water. Seeing this, Torn again put his pistol back and also dove into the water, using his powerful muscles to drive him – hopefully – faster than his adversary. He reached the "shore" of the tiny island and quickly jumped out, searching for the person. But he was too late as a body pressed up against his back, one arm covering his mouth and the other holding a gun to his head. "Gotcha," a voice panted. "Now, lets take a look at your pretty face…"

Torn felt himself be pushed from behind and spun around, hand going for a gun that must have been stolen from him. The first thing he noticed was the gun in the young girl's hand, and then he recognized Camilla's face behind the gun. Her eyes went wide. "_Torn?_" she spat out in disbelief.

"_Camilla?_" he said at the same time. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"I could be asking you the same thing!" Camilla yelped, gun still aimed at her brother. "Get out of here before one of my 'friends' finds you! I'm not supposed to know you!"

Eyeing the gun pointed at him, Torn rapidly connected happenings and ideas in his head. She was constantly out of the house, working "against the Baron", coming back half dead and zombified…it could only mean one thing. "You're with the Underground!" he accused.

"Am not!" the gun wavered slightly.

"You are, look at you! You're wearing the same things as the other Underground members!"

It was true. For whatever mission they had been sent on, the members of the Underground were wearing blue jumpsuits and thin leather shoes. Strapped around Camilla's waist was a box that looked mildly like a box of explosives. Her hair was tied back into two braids, while her bangs wetly stuck to her face in long strands. The gun quivered in her hand as she pointed it in his direction, making Torn nervous.

He slowly stepped closer to his sister until he was at a distance where he could safely pry the weapon out of her hands. Carefully placing it on the ground, he closed the rest of the space between them and pulled her into a warm embrace where she began to sob uncontrollably on his shoulder. The moment didn't last though, when shouting was heard over Torn's communicator and he had to pull away. His troops – now lower in numbers – had called to report that all the Underground members had either been destroyed or had fled. Torn was thankful for the earpiece that kept the conversation mostly private, if Camilla had heard that most of her new 'friends' were dead, she would be completely crushed, and more tears would flow. He dismissed his KG and told them that he would meet up with them later, claiming his sister had contacted him and needed his help with something at home. The communicator clicked off before anyone had a chance to ask questions, and he turned to face his sister.

"Take me to the Underground." He said.

She was more than happy to, telling her slightly older brother all the stories of the adventures she had, things she had done, and skills she learned. He listened intently, grateful that he had finally found an organization that hated the Baron as much as the duo since the day he murdered their parents. Upon walking in the doors, Camilla fell into the arms of a little green man, sobbing about all their losses and presenting him with the package of explosives she had stolen from Dead Town. Then, straightening up and wiping her nose on her sleeve, she introduced him to her brother. Torn and the green man, known as The Shadow, sat down and had a lengthy discussion about everything – his life, passions, relationships, everything.

The next day, he quit the Guard and took over as second-in-command in the Underground.

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Sure, my life is harder than yours. My average day looks like this: wake up, have breakfast, don't die, escape from someone or something, forget lunch, beat people up, eat a snack, run around, go to bed. My body is growing impressively, I now have enough muscle power to rival that of your average KG, and those buggers are strong! Life in the Underground is simple for me, or at least it was. It stopped being simple the day that annoying bugger and his fancy pet escaped from jail. Sure, I've done it plenty of times, but since he's some sort of alien or time traveler, he gets all the glory for doing it once.

It's always good to see Torn doesn't like him though. But I worry…am I now being shoved aside? The Underground doesn't call on me like they used to, Number One is being demoted to Number Two, while the underdog leaps up into my old spot. There's something about him that makes people think he's special, and the day I find out what it is, I'm gonna kill him for it.

_~Taken from Camilla's Journal_

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**So there you have it. First chapter is up. Thoughts, comments, anything really would be appreciated.**

**Feel free to let me know what you thought!**


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